


what's in a name?

by sleebyama



Category: God of War (Video Games)
Genre: Gratuitous References to Mistletoe, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide attempts, Inaccurate Game Lore, Inaccurate Game Timeline, M/M, Other, timeline inaccuracies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2021-01-26 01:08:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21365659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleebyama/pseuds/sleebyama
Summary: “What’s your name boy?” His voice repeated again, sickly sweet in its tone. "You come here every night but you’ve not yet told me your name?” Firelight licked at the side of his face, illuminating his inquisitive expression.“You’ve not told me yours.” Valgard retorted from his seat next to the fire.
Relationships: Baldur (God of War)/Original Male Character, Baldur (God of War)/Valgard (Original Male Character)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 41





	what's in a name?

The Stranger gave him many names. 

**

“I am Finni.” The stranger whispered while the snowflakes drifted down towards the forest floor. “What’s your name?” There was nothing around him, as he sat in the snow. The young boy glanced around at the forest around them before he spotted the stranger in amongst the trees.

The young boy smiled at the man as he stood, before he tightened his grip on his walking stick. He said nothing to the man, smile growing wider when he heard a frustrated sigh from behind him as he continued to walk along the trail.

The stranger did not follow.

**

“I am Asvald.” The Stranger cried out as he turned his back. The young boy was now a teen, lanky but growing into his frame. He paused in the snow before he shook his head. 

“That’s not your name.” The teen replied and pushed his hair out of his eyes, shaking the snowflakes from it. With a cheeky smile that he shot at the man, he winked and turned back to trek out of the forest with his walking stick in hand.

Again, the stranger did not follow. 

**

“I am Bjorn.” The man said firmly, beads in his beard clicking together as his head nodded. “What is yours?”

The teen standing opposite him shook his head and again replied.

“That is not your name.” The teen shifted his hold on the pack on his back, before he smiled at the man again. “Tell me your name, and I’’ll tell you mine.” 

**

“What is your name boy?” The man asked impatiently. The man ran his hand through the shaggy top of his hair and sighed when he was met in silence. The teen was older now, he had filled out his frame. His clothes fit tighter. His footsteps in the snow were still quiet. 

“What’s yours?” The teen countered with a smile, and his eyes lit up when the man’s face changed to a fond frustration.

**

The Stranger has not felt like this in a long time. A very long time. He has not felt satisfaction from a warm meal, a cold drink, the warmth from a hearty fire or a Yule log. He had not felt curiosity from others, animals or humans. He had not felt interest in a long time.

This time however, this time was different. The forest he now wandered was laced with an inviting aura, while he couldn’t feel anything from it, there was something about him that made him want to stay. Something in this forest was more than his mother’s spell could hide from him, and he wanted it.

The boy that wandered the forest was the cause of it, sitting in the snow with a tent like it was nothing out of the ordinary. Like _ he _ was nothing out of the ordinary. 

Baldur was determined to find out exactly who this boy is. 

**

The forest was dark, mist covers most of the ground, filters through the trees and blankets the the forest floors up to his knees. It was cold, snow crunched beneath his feet. No one came into the forest at night, the village was afraid to, except for him.

He was a boy when it started, creeping into the forest at night despite his mother and father dragging him away by the collar of his shirt or a hand curled around his bicep. It was cold but his furs kept him warm as he walked as did the tent that he carried with him. The woods called to him when he was a child, and they still did now.

“What’s your name boy?” The Stranger's voice sounded like a haunting whisper among the dark trees. One wouldn’t expect company out in the woods now, in the middle of the night, miles away from the village. Valgard should have been alone. His tent was still rolled up on his back, the ground was too uneven to make camp for the night.

“What’s your name boy?” His voice repeated again, sickly sweet in its tone. His frame won’t come into light, not until Valgard has made his camp and lit a fire for the night. To huddle next to while he sat in the cold snow. He walked. He walked and walked until he came to a clearing where snowfall was limited and the ground was even.

The man stepped out to meet his eyes, seemingly out of thin air, as his feet left footprints in the snow wita soft crunch and nothing more once the fire was burning bright. “You come here every night but you’ve not yet told me your name?” Firelight licked at the side of his face, illuminating his inquisitive expression.

“You’ve not told me yours.” Valgard retorted from his seat next to the fire. He rubbed his gloved hands together before pressing them to his cheeks. The moon was hidden behind clouds tonight. His tent was tied shut behind him to keep the cold and snow out of it.

The man stepped closer, his hair was short, cropped to the sides of his head and slightly shaggier on the top with a longer back. His beard held small braids and beads, a lighter dirty blond from his hair. The man had been in the forest for as long as Valgard could remember, his voice would call out to him and ask him his name.

“And you think you’re worthy of my name?” The man always seemed to be half-dressed, lacking a shirt or any proper attire for the cold. His body was covered in tattoos, deep blue ink curved around his frame, runes and circles curved around his torso. Inked rings laced up his forearms separated by more runes. He radiated an aura unlike anyone Valgard had met. “What are you doing in the forest boy?” 

Valgard glanced around the trees that loomed over the both of them before he leaned back and planted his hands into the snow. “The forest calls for me. I hear it, and I come to find whatever it is.” 

For some reason he does not fear the man in front of him. The man who does not shiver from the cold, the man who lurks in the forest during cold winter nights. He does not fear how the man barely reacts to the heat of the fire, or the cold of the snow when he sits down opposite from him. “You have given me many names.” Valgard continued to say. "Won't you tell me the truth."

"Tell me your name." The man insisted as he leaned forward to hover his hands dangerously close to the fire. Valgard grinned and pushed his gloved hands further into the snow.

"No. I don't think I won't." Valgard smirked. The man huffed, but he shuffled over from where he sat to Valgard and sat beside him, before he stared into the fire. 

**

  
  


The next time the Stranger made an appearance. He was cut and bruised and limping slightly, favouring his left side slightly. Valgard was hauling logs towards the clearing, a base of a cabin already laid down despite the snow having fallen. 

"Have you been doing this on your own?" The man asked from behind him as he was driving his axe into the log. The beginnings of a cabin floor had been laid next to its frame, logs halved lengthwise. 

"You've been busy." Valgard replied, dragging his eyes up the man's frame. "And winter is getting worse. I can't stay in a tent forever." 

The log creaked as it finally broke in half. Valgard grunted as he lifted it from the chopping station. The weight was lightened as the man gripped the other end without so much as breaking a sweat despite his injuries. 

"If you continue this alone, you won't be done before the blizzard hits." The man chastised as he took over laying the wood snow for the floors. Valgard huffed but said nothing in response, going back for the second half of the log. 

The weather had barely calmed by the time they were done with the flooring. The man had taken over to carrying the logs over to the cabin and placing the floor on his own while Valgard continued to chop at the logs. 

They retreated back to Valgard's tent once the fire was going and it got dark. They sat together in the opening of the tent, sweat rapidly cooling as Valgard stripped out of his furs and shirt. Their bare shoulders brushed together as Valgard reached over to stoke the fire. 

"Are you going to tell me your name?" The man asked finally, nudging Valgard's shoulder with his. Valgard laughed, poking at the fire before he turned his head to look at the man.

"Will you tell me yours?" He replied. The man sighed and shook his head. Valgard gave him a smile and leaned to nudge the man's shoulder. "If we finish the cabin tomorrow, I'll hunt us a stag."

The man gave him a grin filled with teeth, before he flopped onto his back in the tent, on top of Valgard's blankets and furs. 

"If you're not opposed to sharing." The man said with a wave towards the tent. Valgard slapped at the man's boots before he closed the tent flaps, leaving the fire burning outside as he shuffled back to slip under the furs.

"Good night _ liten katt _." The man said as he folded his hands behind his head. Valgard flopped back, again brushing his shoulders against the man's as he shuffled around to get comfortable. The man was surprisingly warm despite his habit of flopping down into the snow like the cold wasn't an issue. 

"Good night, _ min fremmend _." Valgard laughed softly and fluffed his pillow, before he covered his eyes with his arm. 

**

The cabin was built in a day, mostly from the help of the Stranger. He lifted logs like they were nothing, back and forth while Valgard chopped axes and fashioned fittings. By the time the sun was setting, the fire was being lit inside the cabin, in a makeshift fireplace rather than outside next to a tent.

Despite sharing a tent during breaks and sitting so close that their shoulders brushed, there was only one bed in the cabin, large enough for two people-two men of their stature-but a single bed nonetheless. 

Valgard took a drink from his waterskin as he leaned against a tree trunk, watching the stranger as he checked the cabin's structure before the man held out his hand for the waterskin.

Valgard laughed but held it out to him nonetheless.

"Will I see more of you then?" Valgard asked as the man took a drink out of his waterskin.

The man chuckled. "Maybe."


End file.
